


Naughty Mushroom

by whiskeredschatz



Category: Naruto
Genre: Accidental Plot, But Not Much, Diplomacy, Fluff, Gaara is oblivious, M/M, MY FAVE, Porn With Plot, Romance, Shika is a grump, Smut, Some Plot, bc i don't think anything through, but straightforward, cause there's some plot but it ends with porn, or diplomacy, plot i mean, so you know you've been working for smth, who knows what diplomats do, with an upset tummy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:37:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeredschatz/pseuds/whiskeredschatz
Summary: The title is purely because this fic was prompted by the one, the only - *drumroll please* http://fungusamongus.tumblr.com/ and their wonderfully ridiculous and addicting GaaraxShika drawings and comics and just. Mhmm - tasty. Check them OUT right now (in a new tab pls).So yeah. Just wondering how this would look like in a somewhat canon, slightly canon-divergent Naruto Verse. Yeah. A little diplomacy, a bit of confusion - the tags explain it far better than this summary ever could.Without further ado - let the shameless trope usage BEGIN!(now that I think about it, maybe I should insert a naughty mushroom later on *gets shoved off stage*)





	Naughty Mushroom

**Author's Note:**

> (or rather, this was inspired by fungusamongus's -ahem- saucy blog, naughty shrooms which I can't link cause I can't find it right now - Tumblr be doin' e'ryone a nsfw scare right now but it's so good give them some Patreon love if you're not BROKE ASS like me rn)
> 
> Hope you like

“Of all the fucking assignments to be put on...”

Shikamaru was complaining, which earned him a well-deserved back of the head slap from Temari.

“Gaara’s just been appointed so you better be on your best behaviour. He’s getting enough crap from Suna’s elders”, Temari admonished.

The two were travelling from Konoha, to finalise the formalities of the new alliance between the Fire and Sand hidden villages. Temari had been sent to extend Suna’s gratitude to Tsunade, which had been accepted with gracious wariness. That was the reason why Shikamaru was sent as diplomatic envoy - because he could see through bullshit, if need be.

But Shikamaru was not keen on the effort, or the extreme heat, both of which would be piled onto him in abundance in Suna. And then there was the issue of unnaturally cold nights and scarce cloud cover. There was just no winning with this.

He swatted her comment away and continued. “It’s tiresome and important, but boring and long. Tsunade must have a vendetta against me.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Temari said.

“Exactly...”

**

When in a foreign land, it is customary for the traveller to seek experiences of the local culture. Said forcefully imposed cultural experience had already given Nara Shikamaru an indigestion. The ‘mild’ Suna curry was so hot, it gave him a new appreciation for the intrinsic value of milk. Truly, it was the juice of the gods.

Having excused himself from further torture, Shikamaru was laying perfectly still in a hammock, away from the burning food and outdoor heat. Temari had told him off for not having a stronger stomach and Kankuro seemed to be trying very hard not to laugh. If this was their idea of a warm welcome, he was not looking forward to official negotiations.

Someone was knocking on the door. “If it’s more of that food I’ll pass”, he said. The knocking stopped. “Ugh, come in already.” He tried and failed to remove himself from the hammock without the desire to disembowel himself from pain and nausea.

“I apologise for intruding. Would you like me to bring a medic?” Gaara asked. The Kazekage himself had come to check on him. Shikamaru didn’t know whether he should laugh or cry.

“Gaara-sama. I’d bow but this foetus pose is keeping me alive so I’ll stay here if you don’t mind.” Shikamaru croaked in response.

“The talks have been postponed until you recover. I have arranged for Konoha-style food to be prepared during your stay, as a token of apology. Please make yourself at home”, Gaara told him in his inflexion-less voice.

Shikamaru chuckled faintly at that, because in his home the only thing that could do as much damage as that curry was his mother, and he’d spent his whole life learning how to deal with that. “I’ll try to remember that next time I worry your food attacks me.”

“No one can fault you for trying, Shikamaru-san.” Gaara said, before taking his leave. Shikamaru was eternally grateful when the medic came shortly after, but then he remembered to tone down the gratitude for even needing medical treatment in the first place. “Of all the fucking assignments to be put on...”

**

The kitchen was empty and quiet, as it should be at that hour. Yet here Shikamaru was, woken up in the damndest early hours of the morning, nursing a splintering headache, a stomachache from not eating for 15 hours, which was caused by sleeping said 15 hours and zero will to find something edible. Turning on the lights was completely out of the question, as was making food from scratch. He squinted in preparation of the fridge light and - well nothing happened because it blinded him.

“Is it common for you to -“

The person was cut off by the shadow possession jutsu, the tendrils holding loosely in the fridge light. “Fuck. Don’t sneak up like that. I thought you’d be at home.” Shikamaru told Gaara, who blinked in confusion.

“This is my home. Is it common for you to wake up this early? My sister always complains about your laziness.” Gaara replied.

“I meant the part of the building that’s warded off from strangers. That home? With your siblings? Forget it. I’m tired and hungry.” Shikamaru complained.

“There are labelled boxes in the fridge, prepared specifically for you. I believe they are all common dishes of Konoha.”

Shikamaru squinted suspiciously inside the light box and lo and behold, he spotted ramen, dango, onigiri and even some tamagoyaki rolls. He let his surprise and heightened suspicion show, because those looked so good they had to be poisoned. But if this was their idea of silent assassination, the international scandal was worth it.

“Do you wanna share? It’s not exactly fun to eat alone at night in a foreign country.” Nor was it fun to be poisoned with such carefully made dishes.

To his surprise, the Kazekage of Suna inclined his head in agreement and sat down at the dimly lit kitchen isle with the surety of step that came from military command. In that particular setting, his motions and unusual features were all the more striking. Shikamaru gulped uncomfortably and felt his knees shake all at once, because he was absolutely starving and was not ashamed he wished for his mother’s cooking in the throes of pain and tears.

He slumped in relief over the hard surface, almost missing the chair in his descent. He felt sand at his side but waved it off, face firmly planted on the cool surface. After a few minutes of silence, Gaara enquired if he was fine. Shikamaru grumbled and then slowly lifted his head up for the ‘talking clearly’ part.

“M’okay.” Shikamaru said and wobbled upright to grab all Konoha-labelled boxes. He microwaved them in silence, one by one, the satisfying ting at the end making him hungrier by the minute. Gaara watched him, face blank and unreadable. As long as the man wasn’t set on turning him into a bloody glory, it was fine by him, Shikamaru thought. When the long and arduous heating stage was complete, he set up the bare minimum on the isle and, finally, sat down. Two greedy ramen slurps in, he noticed it was awfully quiet.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Shikamaru asked in a low voice, an almost broken whisper at the thought that he might die after all. The escape opportunity had likely passed, depending on what chemical the food was laced with - paralytic? slow-acting perhaps since he felt nothing yet. There was no way to send a message - he had no tools on him, having established this was a diplomatic mission. Nothing indicated potential assassination - which, in this case, would amount to political suicide given he was a diplomatic emissary.

Gaara stared at him for a few sweat-inducing moments, offering a slow blink at the end. He was perfectly still and composed, not like the rage-induced, blood-thirsty beast he had last seen. But then again, perhaps that’s what it actually meant to gain control of the beast - there would be no emotion when he went in for the kill. Shikamaru was not ashamed to admit he’d began to shake and cursed his stupidity, as he remembered the pack holding his suicide pill in the room. He’d been forced to remove it from his tooth at the insistence of the medic, who had apparently been worried it could interact with his stomach acid from all the vomiting. Lovely. How nice of her to care. He winced at the thought of biting his own tongue. He wasn’t afraid of death, but to be taken by surprise in such a manner - it was humiliating and made for a shameful exit.

Gaara, oblivious to Shikamaru’s discomfort, was still staring at him, but looked like he was preparing himself to speak. “I have limited experience with such foods. I would appreciate if you could - walk me through them.”

Shikamaru blinked once, twice and then gave out a breathy chuckle. Gaara looked affronted in as much as his face allowed movement, and Shikamaru started laughing outright. How many heart-stopping frights can one Shinobi take in one night of supposed recovery? Shikamaru shook himself into seriousness, because of the Kage had not been intent on killing him until how, he might just change his mind.

“I apologise, Gaara-sama. I was not laughing at you. I may still be suffering from the effects of the sleep medication. Again, I apologise.”

The rest of the night-time dinner was spent introducing Gaara to the marvels of Konoha cuisine, the height of which was sorely missing from their table: namely, Akimichi cooking.

**

“So…”, Kankuro began uncomfortably, “any reason you’re reading a tome the size of my leg on - “ he peered sideways to get a full view of the title “ - ‘The Customs and Cultural Misgivings of the Fire-Land’?” The subject wasn’t too far off the last few books of such kind Gaara had been found reading, all of which shared a clear geographically-focused theme: _‘Food Under the Hood - Cultural Cuisine of the Canopy Country’, ‘The Right Way to Say **Hey**! - An Overview of Language Particularities In and Out of Konoha’_, and, Kankuro’s personal favourite: ‘ _Proper Interactions and Care Instructions for Shinobi Forest Herders - Land of Fire edition’._

At his question, Gaara turned his gaze minutely from the text and gave him the fond look of ‘did father drop you on your head’. Kankurou had only become aware of it recently, courtesy of Temari’s ‘Gaara Translation Mechanism’. His brother then seemed to remember Temari’s lengthy lecture on the importance of ‘healthy and open communication’.

“Because we seek to forge a treaty with the Hidden Village of the Leaf.” Well, he didn’t need to sound so flat and offended now, did he?

Kankuro frowned once more, as he had several times over the past week when receiving the same cryptic answer. “So… shouldn’t you be focusing on politics and diplomacy books?” He had to ask, because the titles were just plain odd and he wanted to make sure this wasn’t another one of Naruto’s harebrained suggestions. His little brother, bless him, despite his superior intelligence, took to them a little too quickly. In the name of friendship, he’d say, but the poor sod didn’t seem to understand how friendships actually worked. He loved Naruto, truly he did, but he was - well - Naruto, and he confused everyone around him with his unreasonable ideas.

“It is custom to engage with their culture beyond superficial layers” - and wow, had Gaara just called diplomacy superficial? Diplomacy was the only reason Sand wasn’t made one with the sand and razed to the ground after the Orochimaru stint - “to build strong alliances. I wish for this one to last longer than the last.”

Ok, fair point, so did everyone else, but was this the way to go about it?!

“Gaara? What are you reading?” Temari asked as she came in. “Anyway, we need to decide on an official date to start negotiations. The Nara’s been cleared.” She finished, all business. Good, Kankurou thought, distracting Gaara from his new odd hobby was good.

The Kage placed a bookmark in before closing the tome and placing it under his desk. He stood, removing his off-white official robes, folding them neatly and draping them over the back of his chair. His siblings watched with interest, unsure what the ceremony was about. Was Gaara still a bloodthirsty psychopath? No. Did he confide in Temari that sometimes ‘Mother’ spoke to him? Yes. After careful discussion, they had agreed - along with Baki-sensei, the only other person who could be trusted with such sensitive information - to silently observe whenever Gaara went about doing something odd, yet harmless. When he began heading towards the door, Kankurou spoke.

“Um, Gaara? Where are you going?” Temari frowned beside him but then grunted in approval. They had to know, right?

“To discuss with Shikamaru-san the date of the upcoming negotiations”, he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, for the Kazekage to personally attend to such administrative minutiae. The siblings nodded, but after Gaara left, both him and his sister were wondering why he didn’t send one of them and also, what the heck was that thing with removing his official robes?

**

**Author's Note:**

> What have I done is this even remotely believable *HALP* (they shriek in a fake and horribly insulting German accent)


End file.
